


Just One Word

by GentlyMad



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Cockles, Lap Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-02-05 02:20:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1801831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GentlyMad/pseuds/GentlyMad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In order to get what he wants, Jensen just has to say one little word...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just One Word

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies in advance to anyone who speaks Russian. I used Google translate, so hopefully it came out alright.

Jensen is on his hands and knees on the hotel bed with Misha buried balls deep inside him, but unmoving. Misha laughs wickedly as he drapes himself over Jensen's back, tongue running over the freckles that dust his tensed shoulders. "Kрасивый," he whispers as his fingers trail down Jensen's ribs, sliding underneath to brush across the quivering stomach muscles before pulling back to dig harshly into the hollow of his hip bones. "Beautiful."

"Just fucking move already, Misha," Jensen grits out, trying desperately to thrust himself back, trying to get any kind of friction.

Misha grabs a handful of Jensen's sweat-drenched hair, thankful that he lets it grow out between seasons, and yanks his head back harshly. "Say it," he growls hotly, holding Jensen in place. "Cказать!" Jensen may be taller and more muscular, but Misha and his damn yoga, or whatever the hell mojo it is, knows how to leverage his body and use Jensen's own weight against him. He feels trapped, out of control, and completely wrecked.

"Mish...." Before Jensen can finish, Misha has an arm wrapped around his neck and in one swift movement, pulls Jensen up and back onto his lap. A guttural moan is pulled from his throat as the new angle drives Misha even deeper inside him, but the bastard is still holding him in place and not moving.

"What was that, princess? I don't think you said the magic word," Misha teases, and Jensen can practically feel the smirk against the back of his neck. If he wasn't so desperate to get off, Jensen would tell Misha to go fuck himself. Then again, Misha probably would actually go and do just that. "Shit," Jensen thinks. "Note to self: Tell Mish to go fuck himself and see what happens."

"Please," Jensen begs, in a completely manly, and not at all whiny, tone.

"I'm right here, baby," Misha purrs into his ear. "All you have to do is say it..."

It's too much and Jensen knows Misha has won. He lets his head fall back against Misha's collar bone and he moans, "Dmitri!" Suddenly Misha is everywhere, his hands grasping at Jensen's chest and shoulders, hips pummeling into him, fucking the air right out of his lungs. 

At this angle and intensity, Jensen can barely hang on, let alone be an active participant. He lets his body go limp as Misha drives into him from behind, snaking a hand down to grasp his painfully neglected cock and two strokes is all it takes before Jensen is shouting, "Dmitri!" as he comes all over the bed and Misha's hand. He's pushed flat down onto the bed, moaning into the pillow, "Dmitri," as he feels Misha coming inside him.


End file.
